Harry Potter And The Troublesome Marshmallow
by mooserly
Summary: In this new installation, Harry Potter must confront his demons after a marshmallow stuck in his nose causes a sinus infection.
1. Marshmallows

Snape was disgruntled. His appointment to the infirmary concerning blood in his stool had only confirmed a mild diagnosis of spastic colon, and, to make matters worse, his antidepressants were giving him a painful erection.

Haunting the corridors of Hogwarts was becoming a difficult enterprise without at least two doses of Amitiza and Glycolax every morning, and even then, with the drastic side effects, it was difficult to disappear from the staff's view without an excuse at hand. Like the abrupt whims of nature passing from the summer to the autumn in little less than a week, so too, was nature's call to Snape abrupt and uncomfortable.

"Where are you off to?" McGonagall asked. "It's three in the afternoon and you have a class of sixth-years ready to brew Amortentia."

Snape scowled. "I'm off to shadow that...that Potter boy."

"Not this again."

By the point in which McGonagall had made any sense of Snape's exit, he had long left the confines of the staff quarters. Whilst Snape scoured the third floor of Hogwarts for elusive restroom facilities Harry Potter, protagonist and former child warrior, and his best friend, Ron, were playing Wizard Chubby Bubbies in the Gryffindor common room.

The premise of Wizard Chubby Bubbies is simple. Two young wizards are equipped with a sack of marshmallows procured from Hogsmeade, and attempt to stuff as many of them as possible down one's gullet before either suffocating or regurgitating the lot of them. There is a caveat, however: one must state how many marshmallows they have in their mouth each time a marshmallow is added. The loser, as per the well-enshrined tradition of Wizard Chubby Bubbies, is hung.

Ron put a marshmallow into his mouth. "One chubby bubby. There. Now your turn."

Harry frowned. "Ron, this game isn't exactly challenging. I mean, after all, we are just using one orifice."

"What?" Ron mumbled, marshmallow still firmly lodged in his windpipe.

"Well, let me put it this way. The mouth and digestive system can only be filled so far. Remember that time Madame Pomfrey had to pump Pumpkin Pasties from your stomach after you claimed you could eat a hundred in a single sitting?"

"No."

Harry expectantly grabbed the sack of marshmallows. "Well, regardless, I think we should take Wizard Chubby Bubbies to a more extreme level. Watch closely."

With Ron transfixed, Harry put a marshallow into his nose. "One chubby bubby."

"Neat." Ron raised a marshmallow and jammed it into his ear. "Two chubby bubbies."

Harry placed another marshmallow into his nasal cavity.

Then everything went black.


	2. Chopsticks

Madam Pomfrey never wanted to be a nurse. In the impulse of her youth she always dreamed of being a page five girl in the midst of the tabloids of the Wizarding Weekly. Such dreams were foolish ones, she knew, and magic came to guide her away from such terrible decisions. But there comes a time in every wizard's life in which they accept that not even the most potent of magical powers can prevent stupidity.

So did Madame Pomfrey think as she attempted to extract a marshmallow that had been lodged deep into Harry Potter's nose. She had tried tongs, tweezers, spoons; the medical ward even had implored Cho Chang to supply them a pair of chopsticks, but to no avail.

The marshmallow, at least for the time being, had to stay. Yet Dumbledore did hear of this inconvenience, and due to his special, if uncomfortably strong interest in Harry, he proceeded to make a swift arrival to the Infirmary.

"Potter! Is the boy alright, Mrs. Pomfrey?"

Pomfrey directed the Headmaster to a series of x-rays at the rear of the ward. Harry's nose was blocked entirely by the lodging of the marshmallow at the nasopharynx.

"It's no use, Albus. I have tried all manner of utensils. I have expended the use of my best healing spells. I have even maced him with pepper spray. Nothing has shown any indication of getting that damned marshmallow out."

"What if I suck it? From his nose?"

Pomfrey grimaced at the suggestion, turning a pale shade of sickly green.

"I mean with a vacuum cleaner, Mrs. Pomfrey."

"Oh."

"There is one in the custodial closet. I fear the encroachment of technology as much as you do, matron. But Potter's life, nay, the fate of the whole wizarding world may be at stake, for we only have so much time before Potter succumbs to the marshmallow!"

Over Harry's unconscious body did Madame Pomfrey sigh deeply, and close her eyes in resentment. "It must be done. Summon the vacuum magicians."


	3. Geeses

Ron poked the goose in the pond with a stick. "I know what you're thinking, Hermoine. You're thinking: is this a girl, or a goose?"

Lost in thought, Hermoine continued to look over the expanse of the grounds of Hogwarts, in a deliberate ignorance of Ron's pitiful attempt to gain attention. Last week Malfoy and his butter-faced goons had begun using the epiphet "mudblood", now they had graduated this morning to "plumpy bookish bitch". Things were not well at all for Hermoine.

Ron continued to harass the goose. "It must be a goose," he deduced, "even if it is wearing a robe, because if it were a student, Mrs. McGonagall would have sent me to the Whipping Rooms by now." True to reason, the goose continued to encircle the little pond, terrified. But it was now not terrified of Ron's abuse, but a broad, looming shadow that cast itself over the three of them.

"Mister...Weasley..."

It was Snape.

"Snape," Hermoine said, "I didn't encourage him to do this."

"Do...what...?" Snape retorted.

"Attack the goose."

"What...goose?"

Hermoine and Ron turned to the direction of Snape's leery gaze to see that the goose had turned into a rather displeased and quite soaked Mrs. McGonagall. The two teachers exchanged a knowing smile, happy in the reassurance that their skills of trickery had not deteriorated over the years.

"I didn't know you were a goose." Ron said.

Snape hit Ron with the back of his hand.

"We...are looking...for Mister...Potter..."

A silence overcame the group. No particular part of Ron desired to tell Snape that he had seen Harry whisked away to the Infirmary after a particularly engaging, if near-fatal, game of Chubby Bubbies. Neither did Hermoine want to involve herself with the school's affairs. She presumed Ron and Harry were up to mischief. Perhaps Harry was using his absence as a distraction to go trek into the Gryffindor Girls' Dormitories with his Invisibility Cloak.

This would not be the first time.

McGonagall was the first to utter something. "How indifferent you seem to be towards your friend's sudden absence, Granger! And Ron, you two are inseperable! I sense, as Snape informs me, that the two of you are up to something, and-"

"Ron told me Harry was busy studying for his O.W.L.S." Hermoine interjected.

"Bullshit," barked Snape. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

"Perhaps," McGonagall advised, "This is a conversation that would be best undertaken in the Forbidden Forest? Or worse...the Whipping Rooms?"

Ron's heart sank. The memories of summers spent in the Whipping Rooms were still all too real...all too painful.

"Harry's in the Infirmary. He stuck a marshmallow up his nose."

"Typical Potter." Snape said.

"We'll see about that. We shall be watching you." McGonagall added.

Just as they had come and briefly threatened the pair of students, so did Snape and McGonagall leave in haste for the Infirmary, leaving the two alone and gooseless in the Hogwarts grounds.


	4. Dicks

The Gryffindor common room had been still since the events of that early morning. Not even the buxom lungs of the Fat Lady had begun warbling to the dawning of the day. All was still, save for Neville, who had taken the remenants of the marshmallows spilled by Harry during the incident and went back to bed in his pyjamas to watch the second half of Spy Kids 3.

"Damnit, Neville!"

Neville could not barely move an inch before a sudden punch from thin air contacted with his tubby cheeks. Though the fat had softened the blow, it had not mitigated the emotional pain. He reeled in agony. "W-who's th-?"

From the corner of the room appeared Ron. "You lard-assed fuck, those were mine! My marshmallows!" He reached for the packet , but a struggle ensued, leading to the plastic splitting - and a wondrous explosion of marshmallows both pink and white in hue across the dormitory.

Ron kicked Neville in the dick.

"O-ouch!" Neville, cupping his groin in intense pain, slowly sunk into the floor, helpless and incapacitated by Ron's attack. "I-I'm sorry! What did I -what did I do? I haven't done anything!"

"Your grease-stained lips didn't happen to tell McGonagall about what happened to Harry, did they?"

Neville shook his head. "N-no! Never!"

Ron kicked Neville again in the dick, silenced only by sound of wooden acting emanating from Neville's television.

"That was a rhetorical question, Neville. Of course you did."

Ron kicked Neville once more in the dick before he was satisfied that he had exacted his retribution. Leaving Neville behind weeping, Ron proceeded to take back the marshmallows that were rightfully his strewn across the Gryffindor common room floor.


End file.
